


Cheyenne

by BilinskiOBrien



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Biting, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Magical Tattoos, POV Derek Hale, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Build, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BilinskiOBrien/pseuds/BilinskiOBrien
Summary: As the head of security at a hot new lounge called "Cheyenne" in the city, Derek Hale is an Alpha just looking to do his work with no mishaps and put his past far behind him where it belongs. When he ends up saving the life of a Stiles Stilinski, one of the Spark bartenders, he unwillingly and unknowingly ends up connecting to him in a way that he would never expect.To make matters more complicated one of the top Were patrons, another Alpha named Deucalion, shows up one night demanding to buy one of the magical bartenders for his own personal use. More specifically: a certain young Spark with amber eyes, mole speckled cheeks and a permanent sly grin.





	1. The Spark

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first Sterek fic, so bare with me because I had an idea and am just rolling with it as I see fit. Grab a snack ya'll, we have got a tad bit of a slow build here. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

It was only just reaching 1am, yet the _Cheyenne_ lounge was full to capacity and the numbers never seemed to wane. Even if a few patrons would leave, there would be more people waiting to get in on the never-ending line that seemed to wrap around the block. The weekend was just beginning, and the new celebrity deejay seemed to bring in even more clubbers than usual. Derek slowly squeezed his way through the crowd, the deafening house music no more than a dull thumping in his ears, which were currently “werewolf proofed” for the night. One ear being stuffed with a special sound blocking earplug, while the other held a snug security speaker that all of the staff wore to communicate with each other. It was at this time of night where he had to make his daily rounds and do a circuit around the lounge to make sure no issues were to be had. Cheyenne was a prestigious new hot spot in the city after all, and he refused to have anything go wrong under his watch.

Making his way towards the main bar area, he looked up to see one of the bartenders creating what they liked to call “performance cocktails”. Most of the workers who tended the bar on the main floor were Sparks. They were notorious for their knowledge and skills with magic and though they weren’t too keen to flaunt it most days, while they worked at Cheyenne for the weekend they made an exception. One of the draws of the lounge itself was the fact that it was the _only_ known place to have magical entertainment included in the venue.

This particular cocktail happened to come with a lot of flare, the brunette Spark swirling a white fire around his hand and letting it create a mini tornado of sorts inside of the glass. Then with the other hand, long fingers gripped the neck of a bottle of absinthe and proceeded to pour it from high up into the middle of the fire. It lit up brightly and once enough of the alcohol was mixed into whatever had originally been inside the glass, it now looked as if the drink were comprised of fairy lights. As the Spark dropped a small piece of crystalized sugar into the finished mix, he did a sort of bow and handed it to one of the women across the bar. The crowd that had gathered to watch promptly clapped and cheered, making Derek snort internally as he went to lift the hatch on the side of the bar counter. 

With a wicked grin of triumph the bartender turned to Derek as he entered the space, amber eyes lighting up in excitement. Tapping his right ear discreetly, he leaned slightly down towards the Spark as he continued to survey the area. “Shouldn't you be a bit more careful? That’s what…your eighth PC you served tonight?” he said with a raised eyebrow. 

Pouting his lips in a mock scowl, the brunette waved his hand vaguely over his shoulder. “Seriously Big Bad? It’s not even that much; really, I can handle up to 20 by the end of my shift with no issue. “ 

Derek let out a huff and watched as another Spark with bright reddish hair down at the end of the bar had begun another glorified concoction. She had managed to draw a larger crowd, since she was apparently doing two cocktails at the same time. While Derek was the head of ABO-Hale Security, it was also his main job to make sure the supernatural staff were taken care of and treated properly. It also didn't help that this particular bartender in front of him, with his creamy skin and mole-covered body had gotten under his skin. Not in a bad way of course, and not that he would ever say it out loud. 

“Stiles you need to limit the number of PC’s. I can’t have you fainting if you drain yourself of energy.” He began to argue, it was a natural habit around the guy if you hung around him enough. “Let Lydia and Allison take care of some, you remember what happened the last time you did too-“

“Alright, ALRIGHT! I get it Sir-Grumps-A lot – I will chill out with the magical drink making.” Stiles says while throwing Derek a look of clear annoyance. Rubbing the back of his neck unconsciously, he does a slight flourish with his free hand and the empty glasses on the bar top nearby start to drift into the hidden metal sink. “You can be such a pain sometimes, I hope you know.” Stiles grumbled under his breath, knowing that Derek would hear him in the earpiece.

“Yup.”

Letting out a small snort of laughter, the young man stepped away from Derek and turned back to take another customers order.

Noticing that the collar of his black button down had shifted slightly, Derek could see the tip of a rune tattoo that was at the nape of Stiles’ neck. To any normal person the tattoo would seem like your standard fare, dark ink in a fancy bold design. Derek on the other hand knew better. The tattoo itself was inked with special mugwort oil, which was infused with other unknown protective herbs by the local druid. It was used essential to protect the Spark or magic user from evil, but it also served as a type of core that if used too frequently could drain the user of energy. 

Stiles may not like talking about it much, but although Derek had known him for less than a month when the incident happened, he had almost put his life on the line trying to save the young man from reaching the edge. So to see with his own eyes that the ink on Stiles seemed to look a bit faded, he sure as hell would cut the Spark off from any unnecessary tricks if he had too. Even if it meant getting the cold shoulder, or getting yelled at by his favorite “little wizard” as Boyd liked to call him behind his back. Whatever it was that Derek unintentionally did to bring Stiles back from the brink, it had unwittingly made him feel as if he had to protect him more than necessary. 

As he turned to leave the bar area and continue the circuit, a hand lightly grabbed his elbow and slid down to his knuckles. Looking up he saw Stiles give him a small smile and a tilt of his head, exposing just the smallest amount of his neck from above the collared shirt. Whether or not he knew what he was doing, Derek figured this was Stiles’ way of making sure they were still all right with each other. Hoping he wasn't giving anything away in his expression, he nodded briefly and brushed his fingers against the Spark’s long ones and then promptly exited the bar. 

He has barely closed the counter hatch when Boyd’s deep voice crackled through the speaker in his earpiece. “Derek, you’re needed on the second floor VIP level.”  
“What’s the situation?” he asked as he headed towards one of the roped off stairwells close to the deejay platform. 

“Deucalion is back again. He says he wants to purchase one of the Sparks.”

Freezing on the spot, Derek frowns and sharply turns his head back to the bar to glance at the Sparks hashing out drinks. “What the hell Boyd – this isn’t a damn auction!” he growls as he starts to move again towards the VIP entrance. “It’s out of the question, and he knows that our policy won’t allow a-“

“Derek look I _know_ , trust me. I just had to inform you first before he tries to get to Laura and puts the request in to her.” Boyd says with a frantic note in his voice that Derek hasn't heard before. He has a feeling in the pit of his stomach that it’s not all he is going to hear. Sure enough Boyd isn’t done. “He said he would put down a large sum of money towards the lounge, as long as he got to purchase a Spark.”

“He’s out of his fucking mind if he thinks I’ll agree to any of this.” Reaching the rope, he waits for another Security Were to lift it and give him access to the stairs. As he ascends them slowly to where he knows Boyd will be waiting, he hears a sigh from the earpiece before the real bomb drops. 

“He said he wants to purchase Stiles Stilinski.”

\- End of Chapter One -


	2. The Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off I just want to say "thank you" to everyone who has given my story Kudos and comments. <3
> 
> I truly appreciate it!
> 
> Please enjoy chapter two of the story so far, and I will do my best to get the next chapter up and posted before this month ends!

# The Challenge

_Calm down, just breathe and get it together._

He told himself this in a span of a few seconds and tried to control the flare of rage that had bloomed up suddenly after hearing Boyd's words. Gripping the rail tight enough to put a slight dent in it, he shut his eyes briefly to make sure the red tinge he had begun to see would fade before he started to climb the stairs again. 

Making his way up to the enclosed VIP platform finally, Derek saw Boyd to his far left and made his way over. He could already see a few people through the thick glass walls in a small group a few feet away and he figured it had to be Deucalion with his entourage. He did not see the Alpha in question, but Derek figured it was a good thing considering how he felt like slamming the man's face into the floor. 

"He's in there. I already told him that you wouldn't agree to his request but he seemed adamant about seeing you anyway, “Boyd said in a low voice.” I also made sure to switch our earpiece channel so that none of the Sparks heard our exchange."

Derek grunted in agreement and seemed to feel only a smidge of relief from knowing that none of the bartenders below had overheard anything. The last thing he needed was to have any of them worry about some random asshole Werewolf trying to buy them off like cattle. It left a bitter taste in his mouth just to even think of the notion. 

"I can't believe he stepped foot into this place thinking he could do this shit,” Derek spat out in disgust. “The only reason I tolerate him being here is because of my mother, and he abuses the partnership they have by coming in here acting like he owns the place.”

“Why don't you just mention this to Alpha Hale?”

Shaking his head in annoyance, Derek ran a hand down his face. “I can’t let her get involved, I have to confront Deucalion on my own.”

Derek knew that he could not allow his mother to get involved with his battles. She may not have been his Alpha anymore since he had his own pack, but she was still the Alpha of the area and he did not want to add anymore unwanted stress to any she may have already had. Plus he knew that he could handle this on his own, and he knew that there was no way he would let some sleazy business tycoon like Deucalion try and create conflict with his family. His sister Laura was the one who co-owned the club with Derek, and a large amount of the funds had come directly from Deucalion’s business. Now the man thought this was collateral enough to be allowed to do whatever he pleased. 

Plus there was the whole matter of whom the man had wanted to get his hands on. He would reach down into the other Were’s throat and yank out his spinal cord if he even put a single finger on Stiles. 

“Jesus, violent much?” he heard Boyd mumble. He hadn’t realized that he was speaking out loud. Running a hand down his face, Derek sighed in frustration.

“I mean…if you _do_ manage that, I hope you’re not thinking of laying it out across the bar like some kind of show of affection”

Derek just glowered and gave him the finger. 

Boyd simply shrugged and just lifted an arm towards the entrance of the VIP area. “After you then.”

***

"Derek, how delightful to see you," drawled Deucalion. The man sat there with an arm wrapped around a petite blonde woman, the other draped nonchalantly on the back of the leather couch. The grin that he gave Derek seemed to widen in an almost predatory fashion. It was enough to make both Derek and Boyd stiffen in irritated unison. There was nothing welcoming about the greeting, and any regular Were could spot an underlying challenge with their eyes closed. 

Forcing a small smile on his face, which only ended up turning into a sort of grimace of acknowledgement, Derek nodded at the older Alpha. Giving Boyd a discreet look, that was the other mans cue to be dismissed and Derek watched silently as he left the glass enclosure to stand in front of the stairway. 

“Good evening Deucalion, I heard that you needed to speak to me?” he asked.

“Yes indeed, but why don't you sit down and have a drink with me. Relax, blow off some steam,” Deucalion said while gesturing at a small number of Wolfsbane brewed bottles that littered the table top in front of the group. 

With a firm shake of the head Derek stood in place, not even bothering to take a seat. No one moved aside to make a space for him anyway, since it was clear that he had no desire to be in their presence. “You know I’m on the job right now. So why don't you cut to the point and let me know why you called me up here?”

“Oh come now, shouldn't it be as easy and simple as an old family friend wishing to speak with someone whom he considers…well, almost like a son?”

Eyes flashing briefly in anger, Derek clenched his jaw tight to refrain from verbally lashing out at the man in front of him. How _dare_ this loathsome, arrogant prick try to act as if he cared for him. Hell, he knew he did not care a lick for any member of his mother’s pack or even Derek’s own. _Old family friend, my ass._

Waving a hand lightly in the air to dismiss the former sentence, Deucalion let a sly grin slide into place.

“Alright then, we will get straight to it since you insist. I am here because I wish to put in a request to acquire one of your workers for my own.”

“That is out of the question, we don't sell our employees like cheap items,” Derek growled out. He felt his hands twitch in irritation and had to cross his arms to prevent himself from grabbing something or someone. 

“I am not asking that you sell me one of the Sparks, I am merely stating that I would love to have one become a part of my entourage, so to speak. They are very talented individuals, especially that delectable looking young man with the amber eyes,” his voice taking out a smooth yet lecherous quality as his nostrils flared. It was as if he were trying to sniff out the scent of the Spark himself. All it did was make Derek sick to his stomach to watch. 

Leaning over the bottle-strewn table, Derek narrowed his eyes at Deucalion while making sure to never let his glare waver. “No.”

Dropping all semblance of faux friendliness, Deucalion sneered and stood up quickly from the leather couch. “Listen to me, you second rate excuse for an Alpha, just because you bit a few lost and battered runts does not make you worthy enough to try and use your commands on _me_. You will do damn well to remember whom it was that made it possible for this little shit show to run. “

“Just because my mother and my sister decided to trust you does _not_ mean that I have to. You may have helped be a part of this but you do not run things here and you never will.”

With that said, Derek swiftly turned away from the group who was staring at him in awe and disgust. He could hear the low growl emitting from Deucalion behind his back, but he knew the man would not lay a hand on him. If he tried, he would be sure to lose an eye or two in the process. Even though it was frowned upon to disrespect another Alpha, especially one that had ties to his family, he couldn't care less. Too many times had that snake crossed lines with staff, too many times had he tried to bend the rules and acted as if he owned the entire club. Derek had had enough of the games and fake personality from the man, and he was done putting up with his bullshit.

If he had even thought for one second that Derek would honestly allow him to take one of the staff members, even if it were not one of the Sparks, he was certainly more ignorant and stupid than Derek had figured. 

As he opened the door to leave the VIP section, he turned again to see Deucalion flashing his red eyes at him in a challenge. Derek flashed his in return and a low rumble started in his chest. “If you touch any of the Sparks on my watch, I will personally rip your throat out.”

Before he slammed the door shut he could hear a chorus of sharp growls and knew that it wouldn't be the last time he had to deal with Deucalion and his group.

Boyd looked up from the entrance of the stairs leading down to the dance floor and frowned at Derek. “That went quicker than expected. No spinal chord removal then?”

“Not tonight at least,” he mumbled back dryly. 

“So I take it that he did not like your refusal?”

Throwing a dark look at the door he had just come out of, Derek turned and placed an arm on Boyd’s shoulder. “He is not to lay a hand on any of the staff, if you see him or any one in his shitty excuse for a pack try anything suspicious I trust you to handle the situation.”

After accepting Boyd’s nod as his word, Derek turned and walked down the small hallway that passed behind the enclosed VIP section. After another short turn left, he approached a door marked “Management” in silver metal letters. Entering a short numeric code into the digital keypad near the knob, it beeped twice and unlocked. As he flicked the lights on to his office, Derek pulled out his phone and quickly hit a number on speed dial. A second or two passed after the initial ring before the person on the other end picked up.

_“Hey baby bro, what’s going on?”_

\- End of Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love sarcastic Boyd vs Derek. 
> 
> Chapter three will be starring the lovely Laura Hale and showing a little bit of insight on what happened when Stiles went too far with his abilities. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> The title "Cheyenne" actually comes from a song by Jason Derulo, where one of the lyrics are basically him saying "Every heart that I held before, I was sure to break it. I don't know what you did but I just can't stop thinking about you everyday." Then it goes on to say how he didn't mean to fall in love and honestly every time I hear the song it just reminds me of Derek and Stiles, and how I am PRETTY sure Derek would constantly be trying to figure out HOW he managed to fall for our favorite mole speckled guy. 
> 
> So major credit for the title to Mr. Derulo. ;-P


End file.
